Illusions
by DarkwolfKnight
Summary: Fiver years after the melting of the Wicked Witch the people of Oz are having their annual celebration of her death. Glinda the Good leaves the festivities in search of peace and quiet to mourn for the loss of her love. She is soon plagued by something that can't be explained and her grip on reality slowly unravels. Hints at Gelphie.


**Hello all! I haven't forgotten about 'Light of Day' at all. I'm just waiting for the revised chapters to come to me. I decided to write this one shot for you all to tide over until that happens. I actually thought of this while listening to a song and pictured this scenario happening. I can't remember which song. This one shot doesn't go along with that trilogy. This is a stand alone one shot. It's set about five years after Elphaba's melting and the people of Oz are having their annual festival celebrating her death. It begins with Glinda leaving the festival and things begin to happen. I won't say much because you really just need to read this and I might give away too much information. Anyways, read and enjoy!**

There is a soft swishing sound echoing in the empty hallway. Soon a muffled sob enters the mix as the lone person walking the halls tries to stifle the penetrating sadness that is stabbing their heart. The sounds of a faraway festivity slides through a crack in one of the windows and makes its way into the hallway, trying to let the happiness be known. Padded footsteps rapidly make their way towards the fading sob and swishing sound.

"Lady Glinda! Lady Glinda!"

A female servant calls out to the retreating figure. In her hands grip the crystal wand personally used by Glinda the Good. She had found it lying against Lady Glinda's unoccupied chair when she finally retired into the Emerald Palace. She cited a headache for her withdrawal from the festival going on this day. The servant took it upon herself to return the iconic wand to its rightful owner. A part of her can't believe she is holding onto a beautiful item that belongs to the most powerful witch in Oz. She can feel the magic flowing through it by the tingling sensation on her fingertips and palm. Glinda Upland, or better known as Glinda the Good to the people of Oz, gives a silent curse at being seen by somebody. She had been hoping that she wouldn't bump into anybody when she enter the palace because everybody would be too enthralled by celebration festival going on. She has filled her required time to be out and about today. Though she barely hung onto her sanity by the skin of her teeth. The elegant blonde gives a soft exhale as she feels her mask settle on her face. Time to be Glinda the Good again. Her blue, sparkly, gown swishes again as she turns on her heels to greet the servant. Her golden locks spill over her shoulders. They are not in their usual curls today but have been straightened but have a slight wavy to it. Truth be told, she preferred it that way. It's easier to maintain and for other reasons only known to herself. Her eyes give a twitch when the young woman bows down to her. She hates this formality, a far cry from when she was younger. Galinda would revel and beam at such reverence shown to her. Glinda detests it now. It puts her on a pedestal where nobody can reach her and it makes her feel so alone.

"You know I don't like people bowing towards me, Celeste. Please stand." The good witch speaks gently but firmly, just how Glinda the Good is supposed to speak. Celeste gives a slight blush as she stands to attention. Glinda's stomach gives a sickly twist at the admiration shining in those green eyes. If she only knew the hell she has been through and is still in. she would give it back; the admiration, the love and support of the people of Oz. She would give it all away without a second thought to redo everything so she could have that one person back.

"I'm sorry, Lady Glinda. I forget at times." The servant replies readily. Being around the good witch always makes her nervous but in a good way. Glinda has a gentle soul but a powerful aura that makes evil tremble at the sight of her. Plus it doesn't hurt that the leader of Oz is downright gorgeous. The blonde sees her wand glistening in the light. How blonde of her to leave her wand just lying around. Though it's not like she needs it to use her magic. It's just for show really. Give the people what they think a witch is like, the good ones at least. She then can feel bile rise up in the back of her throat at that thought but forces it back down while trying not to show the disgust on her face.

"It's all right. I see you brought me my want." Glinda points out the reason why her servant is here. She just wants to get this interaction over with so she can retire to her room and be alone for the rest of the night. Any other day, she'd welcome Celeste's company but not today. She wants to wallow in her grief in peace and quiet. Celeste blinks her eyes slightly before looking down to her hands to see she is still clutching Glinda's wand. She gives a nervous giggle. She got caught up in the beauty that is Glinda the Good.

"Oh yes!" She exclaims as she holds out the precious object so the rightful owner can reclaim it. "When I saw it by your chair I thought it would be best to return it to you immediately."

A genuine smile graces the blonde's face as she plucks the wand out of the servant's hand and starts to twirl her wand between her fingers. Those motions sends pink sparks out for a small magical display for Celeste. A tiny thank you for doing her job. She will have to think of something tomorrow to thank her properly. The green eyes widen in awe at the magical display. It's any honor to see it happening, as tiny as it is, for Glinda the Good rarely performs magic for the people of Oz. Glinda actually feels a tingle of happiness creep into her. She doesn't know why it's happening but the pain she feels in her heart dulls whenever Celeste is around her. It's something she hasn't felt in years. The good witch stops spinning her wand before pulling it to her side, her knuckles turn white at how hard she is gripping it.

"Thank you, Celeste. It saves me from running around the palace when I realized I misplaced it again." She replies with a slight giggle. This is not the first time this has happened nor will it be the last. Her mind gets easily preoccupied with the tasks she has to perform daily and nearly always leaves something behind, mainly her wand. Celeste has picked up on this early on and always makes sure those items are promptly returned to Glinda.

The servant starts to bow to her ruler but stops as she remembers what the good witch just told her and stands tall again. Glinda swallows hard at seeing a fire in those green eyes. She remembers seeing that same look in soulful, brown eyes. Her heart starts to ache in her chest again.

"It was my pleasure, Lady Glinda" Celeste replies with confidence in her voice. The blonde straightens her back as her chest tightens up. The similarities are there. Her heart doesn't recognize the difference. Her eyes witness a flash of green.

'Elphie.'

Glinda takes a step forward with her mouth open to speak but stops when loud singing starts to come through the crack in the window. Her crystal, blue eyes widen as tears start to flow down her face when the words come through clearly.

_No one mourns the Wicked_

_Now at last she's dead and gone._

_Now at last there's joy throughout th-_

The window slams shut as Celeste effectively cuts off the rest of the song the people were just singing. She saw the effect it was having on the good witch and tried to move as fast as possible to get the window closed. She grips the window sill hard with a sharp exhale before turning around to assess the good witch. She swallows hard at seeing the anguish and profound sadness in the crystal, blue eyes. Is that why Glinda always leaves before end of this yearly festival. Celeste pauses when she hears the lithe voice warbles as the blonde utters a name.

"Elphaba."

She could see the knees start to buckle under the dress and immediately goes to Glinda's side, to try and bring her any comfort. Her fingers brush against the pale skin on Glinda's arm but the blonde withdraws her like she has been touched by fire. She turns away with a horrified gasp. She can't believe she let anybody see her in this distraught state. It's unbecoming as the ruler to let anybody see the broken soul she really is.

"Lady Glinda, are you all right?"

Glinda wipes away the evidence of tears before straightening her shoulders. She has enough strength to get through the rest of this interaction. She turns on her heels with a fake smile plastered on her face. Celeste gives a frown at the obvious fakeness on the good witch's face. It's weird at how fast it happened. How long has she been faking being happy when she is torn up on the inside?

"Yes, I'm quite all right, Celeste.' She answers with a forced cheeriness in her tone. Even to her, she can hear the fakeness. A brown eyebrow rises up slightly in disbelief. The servant knows Glinda is much better at hiding her true emotions, a lot better than this. Maybe the good witch is just too tired to even attempt to do it.

"Glinda." Celeste whispers, she is one of the few people who call her without any title added to her name. Though she only does it when they are alone because it's improper to do so when around company. It doesn't show the deference that is needed for somebody of that stature. Glinda gives a gasp when she sees a flash of green lips appear in her mind and they silently move.

'_Glinda_.' A worried husky voice echoes in her mind.

"Elphie." She whispers to herself as the tears threaten to fall down her face again. Her breathing gets short and fast; her chest heaving as a wave of distress hits her body. Her crystal, blue eyes dart around in her eye sockets. The room feels like it's closing in on her. She needs to get away. She needs to be alone.

"I have to go." The blonde manages to squeak out before she takes off down the hallway, praying to the gods Celeste doesn't follow her.

"Glinda!"

She winces as that shout triggers another flash in her mind.

_Fire rises in the soulful, brown eyes as Galinda backs away from her with a hand covering her mouth. She is shocked at what she has done._

"_I'm sorry." Galinda whispers before running off into the darkness. Elphaba reaches out to the darkness. "Galinda! Don't you leave!"_

"I'm sorry, Elphie." The good witch whispers as she continues to run away from her past.

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Glinda closes her eyes as she leans into the cascading, warm water pouring out of the shower head. She feels the water encompass her body like a watery cocoon, temporarily shielding her from the pressures of being the Ruler of Oz. She breaths through her nose while she pulls her head back. She puts her hands on her head and moves it down her hair to squish out the excess water out of her hair. She opens her eyes with a heavy sigh. Will this sharp pain in her heart ever go away? She bows her head as she leans forward again. The good witch closes her eyes when the water cascades over her face. She rests her palms on the marble walling before her. Her skin breaks out in goose bumps at the sudden temperature difference. Even with the soothing, warm water hitting her body her bones still ache with weariness.

Her eyebrows twitch when it feels like hands casually creeping up her back until they stop at her shoulders. Her eyes snap open when a familiar cackle hits her ear. Her breathing get heavy as the pressure on her shoulders gets heavy as the person behind her leans in closer. She swore she felt the light brush of soft breasts against her back.

"I'm glad you returned, my sweet. I missed you." The husky voice whispers as fingers squeeze her shoulders with much affection. Glinda inhales sharply as she twirls around hoping to see the flash of green skin that her dead lover had.

"Elphie?"

Tears mingle in with the wetness on her cheek when she realizes that she is all alone in the shower. Her knees give out from the crushing pain weighing on her shoulders. She puts her hands on top of her head while heart wrenching sobs escapes her lips.

"Elphie, I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?"

The answer she received was silence.

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Glinda gives another sigh as she exits the bathroom finally. A spaghetti strap, pearl color night gown clings to her body. She twists her lips slightly in thought while she is busy drying her hair with a green towel. She is mentally going through the list of what she has to do tomorrow. It's something she is trying to do and not remained focus on the thing that happened in the shower, hard as that may be but she has to regain her sanity somehow. Her eyes go towards the glass double doors, one that leads to the balcony, when she sees a flash of lightening. Looks like a storm rolled in while she was taking her shower. The good witch gives a slight smirk at this. If this storm keeps up into the morning then she can cancel most of the things she needs to do since they are all outside. It's mostly christening new buildings that are finally done being built. If that happens then maybe she can slip away for the day and head toward Kiamo Ko. It's been her yearly tradition to lay white lilies near the place her lover died and left her forever. The good witch casts her eyes away dejectedly. If only she had that kind of luck.

"If only I could control the weather." She mutters to herself as she walks to the vanity mirror and sits down on the stool. She sets the damp towel on the table and looks at herself in the mirror. She touches the light bags underneath her eyes. Glinda never gets much sleep the couple of days before the festival the people of Oz have every year to celebrate the death of the Wicked Witch of the West. Her Elphaba's death. She has constant nightmares of reliving that fateful day over and over again. Forced to watch her lover melt with her horrible death shriek still echoing in her mind as she wakes up.

"Maybe I can fake being sick if the storm lets up. I've done it before." The blonde says as she watches her hair start to slowly twist to form the natural curls. She gives a hmm as she grabs hold of one of the curling strands between her forefinger and thumb. How she detests her natural hair style. It reminds her of how she used to be: shallow, self-centered, brainless, dancing through life. To quote an old friend of hers, one who is dead as well. A pink spark shoots out of her finger and thumb as she slides them down the strand of hair. The curl is gone and replaced by a slightly wavy, straight strand of hair. Having magic helps getting her hair the way she likes it. She gives a sigh as she looks into the mirror to see a lanky body slowly fade in behind her. Green hands appear and rest on her shoulders. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears as the body bends over until soulful, brown eyes stare at her through the mirror. Raven locks spill over the broad shoulders. Glinda swallows hard at seeing this. Is she going mad?

"_You don't have to change your looks too, Glinda. I love you for who you are."_

Her fingernails scrap across the table before she grabs the side of her head. She squeezes her eyes tightly to block out the illusion behind her. The blonde she knows it's not real but deep down she wants it to be. Then she probably won't be locked in a mad house if this continues on. How perfect would that be? Glinda can see the headline now. Glinda the Loony locked up. Claiming to be haunted by her dead lover, the Wicked Witch of the West.

While she is trying to get a grip on her sanity the rain lashes against the glass double doors. A bright flash of lightening lights up the balcony. A boot hovers above the slick railing before setting the sole of the boot carefully onto the white marble. Then its twin appears next to it before cautiously moving it to the floor of the balcony. There is a sigh of relief as the person is now safe on the balcony. They weren't expecting a storm to come through but they weren't going to let it deter them. This is something that needed to happen. Their eyes watch rain drops pour over the rim of their hate while holding out a hand to catch the water in the palm of their hand. Their clothing is clinging to every part of their body as the torrential rain has drenched them mere seconds after it started. A strong gust of wind blows by billowing a black cape, which they were wearing, around them and temporarily surrounds the person. It provides a temporary shield from the elements but doesn't provide any warmth like its purpose is supposed to be. They drop their raised hand, the water they collected splashes onto the ground, and sharply looks to the double doors when there is a loud crash.

The dark figured rushes towards the doors and looks in to see the good witch hunched over the vanity table. A huge crack has now appeared on the mirror and the person could see hints of fresh blood dripping onto the white stained table.

"Glinda." The figure whispers with worry.

Glinda whimpers as she stares at her now bloody hand. Another illusion was making itself known in the reflection of the mirror. So she did the only thing to make it stop. She put a fist into the reflection that was making her see things that weren't there. She gives a hiss of pain as she pulls out a small shard from the space between the knuckles. The good witch tosses it onto the dirtied table before looking back to her hand. She sees two small cuts on her hand but they feel deep especially the one she just pulled the shard out of. Celeste will no doubt have questions about her new injury and broken mirror but right now the good witch really doesn't give a shit. Her grip on sanity is hanging on by a thread. Has she finally cracked?

"The signs would point to 'Yes'. Would a sane person punch a mirror to stop seeing images in it." Glinda answers herself. She gives an unladylike snort. Great, now she is talking to herself out loud. Maybe she should take herself to the crazy house now. She will fit right in with her sudden onset of psychosis. The blonde looks to the cracked mirror to see her face fractured by the numerous cracks running through the glass.

"How the mighty have fallen." She whispers as she continues to look at her true reflection. Her eyes widen in horror when there is another flash of lightening which reveals the dark figure standing outside her bedroom. Her heart beats wildly as he turns around with a deer in the headlight look.

'An Assassin?" She thinks in fear. The good witch stands up while holding her bloody hand to her chest. If it's an assassin they are clever to use the storm to their advantage. The exploding sound of thunder can easily mask her screams for help. Though Glinda could use her magic to defend herself but she injured the hand she dominantly uses to channel her magic. She will be at a disadvantage but how can she be sure. She could just be imaging this dark figure.

"Who's there?" Glinda calls out as the person disappears back into the darkness. She swallows hard when she only hears the thunder roll out and the rain pelting the glass. For whatever reason, she feels compelled to get a closer look. She wants to know if this real or just another illusion her fractured mind is creating. The blonde takes a tentative step forward.

"I'm warning you. I'm a very powerful witch. I will use my magic if you bring me harm." She informs whoever is standing out in the storm, peaking into her room. She slowly and carefully makes her way towards the door that leads out to the balcony. Fear runs through her veins when another streak of lightly lights up the outside world, revealing the dark figure still standing there. They never moved from their original spot. She grips her bloody hand even tighter, forcing the blood in-between her fingers, staining her other hand in the process. Glinda squeezes her eyes tightly wishing for the figure to disappear from her sight. Wishing it is just a figment of her wild imagination. She breathes shakily when her eyes open and she watches the dark figure disappear back into the darkness. So, this might be real after all.

"Who are you?" Glinda wonders out loud as her feet keep moving closer to the glass double doors even though she is scared that this is an assassin. If so then this will be her last day alive in Oz. A part of her would actually welcome it. It would finally release her from her personal hell she has been living in for years. The good witch stops a couple of inches from the glass door. She carefully peers out into the darkness while placing a bloody hand on to the cool, glass door. Her breathing gets caught in her throat as her crystal, blue eyes watch a hand emerge from the darkness and rest against the glass in the exact same spot Glinda's hand rests. Her eyes shimmer in disbelief. I-It can't be. This has be another illusion her mind is making up again, to mock her on what she has lost. Her breathing gets shallow and her knees weak. She feels the world start to spin. Her body is overloading on all the events that has happened to day. Her pupils narrow when another bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, revealing the figure to her. Soulful, brown eyes stare straight at her and they are full of different emotions. It can't be. It's not possible. This can't be real. Her voice trembles as she finally finds her voice to speak.

"Elphie?"

**I know…I'm so bad at leaving it like that but that's how I pictured it happening in my head. I'm more so leaving it up to you to decide if it's real or all just a big illusion created by Glinda's tortured mind. Who knows…it's all up to you. I hope you enjoyed it all because I really enjoyed writing it. I'll see you all soon for the first chapter of 'Light of Day'! Until then**

**DWK**


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